


Want You Back

by ewphoria



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Angst without plot, Break Up, M/M, Song: Want You Back (5 Seconds of Summer), Songfic, im so sorry my brain is fried
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:39:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29340702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ewphoria/pseuds/ewphoria
Summary: The rain is pouring down by the time Kiyoomi finally, finally looks at him and finally, finally says, "This will never work."
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	Want You Back

**Author's Note:**

> never thought my first sakuatsu would be... a mess
> 
> this is not beta'd !! so i'll come fix stuff i missed. some day

"You've got freckles on your back," Atsumu says. It's a lazy summer afternoon and they're sprawled in bed. The blonde slides his hand from Kiyoomi's neck to his lower back. For no other reason than because he can. He caresses, squeezes, pokes, tickles.

  
  


"I didn't know that." Kiyoomi turns his head to look at him. Jet black curls falling messily and completely unstyled on his forehead. The pillow left creases on his cheek but he looks beautiful. Ethereal, Atsumu thinks. He reaches and kisses his nose.

  
  


"They are cute." As if to prove his point, Atsumu focuses his whole attention on them again, kissing each and every one. He kisses all the way up and down, again, for no other reason than because he can.

  
  


Kiyoomi laughs softly, "You're ridiculous." He rolls over his back and pulls Atsumu in an embrace. Long fingers run through blonde hair. They melt into each other.

  
  


There was a time in which Atsumu could only dream of being like this with Kiyoomi. Of holding his hand, taking him out, calling him  _ mine _ . But those times feel foreign now that he's able to explore his body freely. It is nice. To touch, to kiss, to love. Atsumu can never get enough of Kiyoomi. Always eager to learn new things about him. 

  
  


Kiyoomi has wild curls and a pair of distinctive moles above his right eyebrow. He wears a scowl on his face most of the time. But that's stating the obvious. 

  
  


Their time spent together provides: He has freckles spread irregularly on his back and he laughs at anything Atsumu does or says. He blushes when he's being complimented and at the same time, he's the bluntest person Atsumu has ever seen. His knees are ticklish. He likes all kinds of red and white flowers. He cries over romantic movies when no one sees and believes in promises and forever's.

  
  


Atsumu holds him with both hands carefully. And still.

  
  


Still.

  
  


Kiyoomi slips from them.

  
  
  
  
  
  


It is cold out there into the chilly autumn evening. Atsumu tries his best not to stare at Kiyoomi beside him. The boy isn't paying much attention to him, hasn't been for a while. His eyes are an opaque shade of dark brown. 

  
  


He looks up to the sky. There are a few patches of blue, some clouds coming together to cover all of them. It's going to be a rough night. Atsumu sighs quietly. He remained calm and collected all day. It was hard to get his boyfriend to go out before winter arrives and the weather gets too cold. But he did it. They went out after days, or was it weeks? Months? It doesn't matter. They did it. But when Kiyoomi grabs his arm to make him turn, an aching sensation makes its way into Atsumu's chest, he knows what all of this means.

  
  


"We have to talk." Says Kiyoomi. His voice is neutral, eyes fixated on something on the sidewalk. Atsumu feels shivers running down his spine. A single sentence and all of Atsumu's effort to not panic go to hell. Four terrifying words. Everyone knows the intention behind them. What is he supposed to do now? He should have known, since the very first day he met Sakusa Kiyoomi, that things were not going to go well for his heart and mind.

  
  


"Yes," he says. Defeated. 

  
  


Atsumu promised himself he would stay calm no matter what, but when he looks up at the sky for a second time, he realizes there is no more blue. There's a gigantic mass of grey and white clouds. He feels the same kind of loneliness from the past weeks. In which Kiyoomi wouldn't kiss him, touch him, talk to him. He doesn't know if he's still allowed to touch him.

  
  


A few inches of distance between them turned into a whole body. They stopped sharing the bed, then the room, then the apartment. It's hard to point a finger when both of them were at fault.  _ This is for the best _ . He thinks.

  
  


The rain is pouring down by the time Kiyoomi finally, finally looks at him and finally, finally says, "This will never work."

  
  


There is a pained expression on Kiyoomi's face, he is also fighting to stay calm. And that is the only way to know he's hurting too.

  
  


The time they spent together provides: Kiyoomi keeps to himself a lot of things. He is terrible at communicating feelings. He tries hard to not make others feel bad. He tries. He tries hard.

  
  


Atsumu can't keep looking at him, he catches sight of the tiny roses embroidered in Kiyoomi's shirt. He embroidered those roses himself. A long week of doing-undoing-redoing. Much like their relationship. He bites his lip while tears escape from his eyes. Or maybe is just the rain. He doesn't know. His hands shake uncontrollably, as well as his legs and chest. 

  
  


_ Please don't leave me. We can make it work. I will try. I love you. Stay with me. Please. Please. Is it me? I told you I would always treat you right. Did I do something wrong? I can make it up. I promise. I never break my promises. Please tell me. Don't leave. I love you. I love you. I love you- _

  
  


There is so much he wants to say but nothing sounds good enough. Kiyoomi used to tell him that he didn't have a brain-to-mouth filter and that he would never change. Atsumu knows he will end up rambling. That's not what he wants. He wants to make him stay, but what used to be endearing, now might make him look insane. His voice will crack. He will cry harder. That's not how he wants the boy in front of him to see him.

  
  


He says nothing and wonders if this is the last time he will ever see his face. 

  
  


This is not how things were supposed to go.

  
  
  
  
  
  


What was once a bed for two is now a big bed for one. It is empty more often than not. Atsumu would rather sleep on the couch, or in the car, or anywhere else than in his own room. Every time he does he wakes up reaching for something (someone) that isn't there anymore. 

  
  


The walls are painted with memories he can't forget. His dreams are invaded by dark eyes and thin smiles. Strong arms wrapping him in a hug. Sweet kisses on his neck. Quiet laughter. Soft words whispered in his ear. When he opens his eyes there is nothing. The silence is all-consuming. The cold winter nights have him looking for a non-existent warmth by his side.

  
  


Some nights he doesn't sleep. His mind replays their last moments together over and over. The last time they slept together. Their last  _ I love you _ . Their last kiss. The day their book came to an end. The last page and the words they did and did not say. All he ever thinks is about where he went wrong. Maybe he was too much to handle. Maybe it was the lack of words. Maybe he was never enough. 

  
  


Maybe they were never meant to be together at all. They were never meant to last forever.

  
  
  
  
  


Kiyoomi is long gone. The place no longer smells like him and the table is set for and by one person. Atsumu remembers with nostalgia and fondness the way he used to make him laugh. The way it would warm up his soul. He remembers every detail as if they were imprinted in his memory. 

  
  


Atsumu doesn't recognise the shine on Kiyoomi's eyes when he sees him again. His black hair is shorter and he has a mask on. After all those years together, Kiyoomi is unreadable one more time. Unreachable. His  _ take care _ is empty. And so are the spaces he left behind. He has probably forgotten about him already. He probably doesn't care anymore.

  
  


The thought makes Atsumu lose his mind when he goes back home. It breaks him apart. Atsumu has to forget. He tries.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Spring comes. The sun shines brightly and green flowers are starting to bloom in the small balcony. The apartment will never be the same as before. 

  
  


It's early in the morning and Atsumu hasn't slept at all. Everything is fine: the coffee table is full of empty bottles and home-made onigiris. Their last movie for the night has just finished. His heart feels light.

  
  


"You should move out," Osamu tells him for the ninth or tenth time that month. 

  
  


Atsumu glances at the walls briefly. He was about to break the lease days ago but he changed his mind. They are recently painted. White canvases that promise new opportunities. "You know," he starts. Osamu's eyes tell he knows where this is going, he stops him. 

  
  


"You're going to say something stupid." 

  
  


Atsumu chuckles, his brother is right. It's stupid. But it's true. No matter where he goes, some people are hard to forget. He thinks about moles and curls. Good morning's and good night's. Calloused hands and soft red lips. The piercing pain on his chest and bitter tears. And he decides he can live with it.

  
  


"I said I've moved on, but I think I'm always gonna want him back."

  
  



End file.
